


Angelic

by Unicorn32442



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, River Lethe, Wings, but later, suicidal thoughts kinda but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:14:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29896155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unicorn32442/pseuds/Unicorn32442
Summary: Nico was standing on a bridge, leaning over the railing, once again staring down into the rushing current of the river lethe.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Kudos: 10





	Angelic

Nico was standing on a bridge, leaning over the railing, once again staring down into the rushing current of the river lethe.

He had recently recovered the memory of his first trip here in a nightmare. A fury was holding him by the back of his shirt. Hades stood at the bank of the river, staring at the ground. Nico remembered wanting to cry, but Bianca was so stoic that he'd managed to hold it together. 

It was because of a nightmare that he had come back.

Nico had woken up paralyzed, like if he moved just a little bit he might fall again. Like somehow his bed and the floor below him wouldn’t support him anymore. 

And he wanted to forget.

He didn’t remember exactly how he got here. Probably shadow travel, considering how tired he was. 

He didn’t want to jump, he knew that. Or at least, that’s what he was telling himself. But how could he want to forget everything? This would mean erasing all his progress. This would erase Bianca. This would erase the few memories he had with his mother. This would erase every moment he’d ever smiled. This would erase Will.

But maybe it would take away his nightmares, too. Maybe it would take away his pain. Maybe, just like it did the first time, the river would take away all the fear and despair and leave him happy. Maybe he could be himself again, energetic and friendly. Nico had trouble remembering how happy he used to be sometimes, how delighted he would get from a conversation, any conversation. How his chest would always feel full and warm, how his feet always felt connected to the ground.

He leaned farther over the railing, looking at the water. It was gray, but there was a shininess to it. As if it was catching a glint of the sun, but the sun had never been able to reach it. It looked refreshing.

There was something in the river. He leaned farther. There was something small and white, shining brightly. Did someone drop something into it somehow?

Nico hadn’t slept well in a while. Was he seeing things? Maybe he would feel different about this decision if he got some rest. Actual, dreamless rest. Some part of him in the back of his mind knew that this wasn’t what he wanted, he just needed to go home and remind himself of that. 

He turned away from the wooden railing, but there was a sickening sound of splintering wood as his foot bumped into the ancient beams. He had leaned too far and he was falling.

As the water rushed toward him, he suddenly didn’t want to lose himself anymore.

He didn’t want to be found dazed and confused, wandering around the underworld. He didn’t want Hades to see what he had done to himself. He didn’t want to go back to camp, to have to be reminded of who he used to be. He didn’t want to go through the recovery again. He didn’t want to see Hazel cry. He didn’t want to see that same look of hopelessness in Will’s eyes that Annabeth had had when Percy went missing. He didn’t want this anymore but it was too late. He was falling and in one second it would all be gone. He didn’t have the time or the stamina to shadow travel away.

Everything he’d been through, all the hard work, every time he stayed up late talking to Will, every time he painted a monster from tartarus just to get it out of his head, every time he’d stumbled and cried and fell and picked himself back up. Had it all been leading up to this moment, when he would finally fall and not remember how to stand up again?

He didn’t want this.

He didn’t want this.

He did not want this.

He closed his eyes and waited.

There was a sound, like air being pushed, and he felt his shirt ripping. He heard water splashing, but he didn’t feel anything.

Opening his eyes, he realized he was standing back on top of the bridge, facing away from the river, and he remembered who he was. It was over.

What had happened? Had his father saved him, somehow? Or maybe he had never fallen at all?

Well whatever it was, at least it was over. He never wanted to see this river again. He felt ashamed that he’d even entertained the idea of giving up.

Cautiously and barely aware of the tears in his eyes, he took a step forward, away from the edge. 

Suddenly, there was a ruffling sound behind him. He jumped and swiveled around, reaching for his sword, and there was nothing there. But as he turned, he had seen a white mass moving past his face. 

He took a deep breath, raising his sword, and looked around. But he was alone. 

It took him a few moments. He felt a weight on his back. He felt a new lag as he moved around. He felt different, like he had gained something and grown more vulnerable at the same time. It took him a few moments to notice that no one had saved Nico.

“What the fuck.”

Nico had saved himself. 

Slowly, he walked across the bridge, trying to get to the other side. Maybe if he ignored them for long enough, they would go away.

But when he reached the other side and stood on solid ground, he managed to process everything that had just happened.

Nico had _wings_. And he had used them to get back up to the bridge.

They were huge, touching the ground just slightly and still managing to be taller than Nico. He grabbed the edge of the left wing and, gently as he could, pulled it in front of him a little. It was made of white feathers, pure and soft. Just for a second, he was astonished and excited.

But then he was afraid.

He was a demigod, he wasn’t supposed to have _wings_ . How could he go back to camp like this? Why was this even happening? Why _now?_

Did he really need one more thing to make him different?

He needed to get to his father’s palace. In a panic, he felt the wings move instinctually, like he’d had them all his life, ready to... what, fly? He couldn’t fly, he was a son of Hades. This didn’t make logical sense, he couldn’t even ride an airplane but now he had angel wings?

He pulled them in, trying to keep them out of his sight, and started running down the path.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my latest obsession.
> 
> I'm making this a multi-chaptered. it shouldn't be too long but if didn't feel short enough to be a one shot.


End file.
